When Dreaming Ends
by KingdomKey1121
Summary: From the end of "El Tango de Roxanne" to the finale, Satine and Christian's POV
1. Guardian Angel

_A result of my recent Moulin Rouge obsession._

* * *

I slowly opened my eyes. Moonlight filtered in through the windows and the room was lit an eerie navy blue by the curtains. I first saw the tall, strong, black man staring at me from the foot of the bed. My eyes finally landed on the still outline of the Duke, who was lying beside him. A dark liquid ran down the right side of his face and out of the corner of his mouth but he was still breathing. The dark man's head slowly turned downward in terror to take in the sight of the man he had just knocked out.

As if a floodgate had opened up inside me, I suddenly began to sob uncontrollably, breathing laboriously. I could care less about the man on the ground, I needed Christian. Now.

"Chocolat…" I managed to choke out to the tall man between sobs. "Christian… I need…"

He seemed to understand. He nodded, eyes hooded with concern and pity. He helped me out of the now-menacing bed and supported me as we made our way out of the Gothic Tower and down through the doors to the courtyard outside, sobs still shaking my weak body. I barely felt the frigid winter air on my scantily clad body as we exited the Moulin Rouge and stumbled across the street to the Hotel Blanche. The climb up the stairs was difficult; I couldn't breathe properly again. We finally reached the landing on his floor and I threw myself through his door with a loud shuttering gasp, taking him by surprise.

"I couldn't!" He swiftly strode over to catch me as I flung myself onto him, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding on for dear life.

"I couldn't go through with it! I saw you there and I…" I pulled back and took his face in my hands, trying to make him understand. "…I felt differently and I couldn't pretend…"

He tried to comfort me by grabbing hold of my shoulders but I smacked them away with the power of my emotional instability. I took another rasping breath.

"And the Duke, he saw! He saw!" I grabbed his cheeks again, watching his face grow blurry as my eyes welled up with more tears. "He saw and he… he…"

He watched me helplessly as I struggled for words. A sob wrenched through me again and I slung my arms back around his neck, holding on as tight as I could, soaking his shoulder with my tears.

"Oh, Christian, I love you…"

"It's okay," he murmured into my ear as he rubbed my back reassuringly.

"And I couldn't do it, I didn't want to pretend anymore." I felt it imperative that he understand this point. "I didn't want to lie, I don't…"

Then something dawned on me, harsh and cold. It's weight forced me to pull back once again from the warmth of his embrace to stare intently into his green eyes. "And he knows. He knows, he saw…"

He interrupted my despairing words. "It's all right, you don't have to pretend anymore. We'll leave. We'll leave tonight!"

His eyes lit up with the idea of running away. I was pulled back to reality as it sunk in.

"Leave?" It was unthinkable. I could only think about one thing. "But… the show…" I sighed, defeated.

"I don't care." he insisted. "I don't care about the show." He gently rubbed his thumb over my tear-stained face.

"We have each other." It was his turn to take my face his palms. "That's all that matters."

The words alone coming from his lips relaxed me in a way nothing else ever would. I felt hope and joy and… even more love for Christian then ever. A wide smile spread across my face, despite the circumstances.

"Yes, as long as we have each other," I agreed. I brought my face close to his so that our noses were touching. "We have each other."

We kissed several times to exercise the point. When we had separated, Christian diverted his attention to the dark man whom I had forgotten was standing in the doorway.

"Chocolat, take Miss Satine to her dressing room and get the things she needs. No one must see you, do you understand?" As he said these commands he approached his bed where his trench coat had been haphazardly discarded. He snatched it up and strode over, offering it to me. I had also forgotten how little clothing I had on.

"I understand," the big man replied.

"Darling, you go and pack and I'll be waiting." He fitted me into his overlarge coat; it was still warm. I snuggled deep inside it; it smelled of him. To show my gratitude and undying love, I kissed him as passionately as I could, pulling his whole head into it. He finally had to push me gently toward the door.

"Go. I'll be right here when you get back."

I smiled and allowed Chocolat to guide me out of Christian's door and back down the stairs. I was thinking of him, contemplating the road ahead, and trying not to dwell on the life I was leaving behind. Once outside, I glanced habitually up at his always-open window; he was silhouetted in it, watching over me like a guardian angel.

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_More to come._


	2. We Won't Sleep

Chocolat left me at my dressing room where I shed the trench coat and draped it over the chair at my vanity. I grabbed a hand purse nearby and started stuffing jewelry and any extra money into it. I opened drawers hurriedly, plucking up anything useful. I left anything I didn't think we'd need behind; handkerchiefs, vases, my pictures of Sarah Bernhardt. I stopped to stare at my caged pair of lovebirds. I was flying away, why couldn't they? I decided to make a point of setting them free once I finished gathering everything. My pace sped up as I scrambled for the last of my things. I looked up to my mirror to see if there was anything on the mirror I could grab but the face I saw behind me forced me to gasp and spin around in surprise. The lights flicked on.

"Forgive the intrusion, cherub," Harold said.

I strolled over to the changing screen to pull off my white satin robe, acting as though nothing were wrong. I glimpsed Marie by the lamp, having just turned it on.

"You're wasting your time, Harold."

"Poppet, you don't understand."

I rolled my eyes at him, looking into the three-way mirror to fix my hair.

"The Duke is going to kill Christian."

It was as though a lead weight had been dropped into my stomach. I stopped breathing enough to force my response to come out like a gasp.

"What… _no_…"

"The Duke is insanely jealous."

I took a few steadying breaths. My hand came up to brush the lock of scarlet out of my eyes.

"Unless you do his ending and sleep with him tomorrow night, the Duke will have Christian killed."

On the last word I closed my eyes and went rigid. Christian replaced the images of the Duke lying on the polished floor of the Gothic Tower. He lay in the same position, blood running down the side of his head, a bullet wound in his skull. The sight was unbearable. I took another painfully deep breath and thought of the relief of flying away, far away, where no one could find us…

Now having regained some control over myself, I opened my eyes and looked directly at Harold in the mirror. I puffed out once, assuming the air of indifference. Attempting to look more the part, I wiped at my eyes and pushed back the lock again. I turned to Harold defiantly.

"He can't scare us."

"He's a powerful man. You know he can do it."

I stood and thought about that. Why must some man always control me? Was I not my own person, who has hopes and dreams and aspirations? Only Christian seems to notice. Hence me getting out of here while I still could. In a sudden fit of rage, I threw off my robe and flung it as hard as I could into the duvet.

"What are you doing?" Harold demanded, following me as I strode over to the vanity, fuming.

"I don't need you anymore!" I scooped up Christian's trench coat. "All my life you've made me believe I was only worth what someone would _pay_ for me!" I began putting the warm coat on. "But Christian loves me." I wrapped it tightly around my small frame. "He loves me Harold." I snuggled deeper into the rough fabric. "He _loves_ me. And that is worth everything. We're going away from _you_, away from the _Duke_," I tightened the collar around my shoulders. "Away from the _Moulin Rouge_! Goodbye, Harold."

At that, I half-ran toward the door, thinking I was home free. He stopped me dead in the doorway.

"You're dying, Satine."

My breathy gasp of register seemed to echo through the entire room. I had to clench my hands on the doorframe to keep myself upright. The carpet swam in front of my eyes as I stared down at it, gasping in shock.

"You're dying."

I gave a little cough. "Another trick, Harold?"

"No, my love. The doctor told us."

I turned to him once more. His face was set in stone. I diverted my eyes. "Marie?"

He face told no lies. She looked away sorrowfully, not wanting to meet my eyes. I felt I had been slapped, betrayed by my own family, my own employer, my own body. I sniffed and stumbled over to look at myself in the mirror.

"I'm dying," my reflection told me. The words tasted metallic and bitter on my tongue. Foreign.

_I was a fool to believe_

_A fool to believe_

_It all ends today_

_Yes it all ends_

_Today_

I sank down next to my lovebirds, depression overcoming me once that day. Marie held me steady, but I didn't acknowledge her presence. Neither the birds nor I would ever fly away, it seemed. Tears ran down my face and I didn't even try to stop them. I could never leave now.

"Send Christian away. Only you can save him."

I absorbed that. That would never work. I shook my head.

"He'll fight for me."

"Yes, unless he believes you don't love him."

"What?" I couldn't even comprehend what Harold was suggesting.

"You're a great actress, Satine." My head rolled back, a fresh wave of tears coming. I tried to reject the idea aloud, but all I could manage was a half-sob.

"Make him believe you don't love him."

I took another deep breath. "No," I managed to get out.

"Use your talent to save him!" I knew Harold was just trying to help, but this was not what I needed, let alone what I wanted.

"Hurt him. Hurt him to save him."

A spasm of pain went through my chest as I tried to hold back the new sobs threatening to overtake me. He was waiting for me. He was waiting for me. If this was what my decision then I must follow through and leave no end untied. It would take all of my acting ability to do the deed itself, but I would need time to prepare. I would not go to him tonight, I wouldn't be able to handle it.

"There's no other way. The show must go on, Satine. We're creatures of the underworld, we can't afford to love."

_Today's the day _

_When dreaming ends._

I heard Harold leave. I felt Marie at my side as I continued to cry.

We won't sleep. Not I. Not my lover, who stays awake all night, watching for me out his window. Waiting for someone who will not come.

We won't sleep.


	3. Everyday a Little Death

_This one is still Satine's POV but next chapter will be Christian's ;)_

* * *

I took great care in choosing my apparel that morning. I had not slept a minute, yet I had to look my best. I had not shed one tear yet today, but that would change very soon.

I scoured my closet and finally emerged from my dressing room wearing a tight gray dress complete with a black hat and veil. It looked as though I was going to a funeral, and in a sense I was, so I supposed it fit. I tried to perfect my make-up and look as beautiful for him as I could before I had to say goodbye to him forever.

Inside my heart is breaking

My make-up may be flaking

But my smile still stays on

I checked myself in the three-way mirror once more before setting off. Everyone seemed to be working in the main hall, putting last minute touches on the lighting and the curtains for opening tonight. I spotted Harold at the end of the rows of plushy red chairs, overseeing everything. I walked right down the center of the aisle and stopped level to him. Neither of us looked at each other but there was a silent exchange between us as I assumed my acting face and strode determinedly out the door.

I noticed gray clouds writhing beyond the windmill as I took the courtyard one step at a time. It became a bit harder when I got on the street between the club and his hotel. It took everything for me not to glance up to his window, from where I could feel his eyes burning into my hat.

The stairs were even harder. My legs felt like weights and my stomach started churning like the ominous clouds outside. Once I got in sight of his door it became almost impossible. But I somehow managed to summon my strength to open his door in a flourish. As I thought, he was standing in his window. He turned when he heard the door open and I was temporarily frozen in his doorway when I saw his expression. It was a face of deep concern and worry.

"What's wrong?" he asked. I just wanted to get it over with.

"I'm staying with the Duke," I said in a rush. His eyebrows came together in confusion.

"After I left you, the Duke came to see me and he offered me everything. Everything that I've ever dreamed of." I forced a smile, like that was the best thing in the world. Christian seemed to be frozen too. But in shock.

"He has one condition; I must never see you again." I forced myself not to flinch as I dealt the blow. There was a pause as my words sunk in. I thought I'd try to be a little sympathetic so I offered a mild, "I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about?" He asked, already hurt.

"You knew who I was—" I said as a weak explanation.

"What are you saying? But what about last night, what we said—"

I was afraid this would happen. I hurriedly interjected. "I don't expect you to understand. The difference between you and I is that you can leave anytime you choose." I was making this up as I went. Anything but the lowest blow to get him to let go of me. "But this is my home. The Moulin Rouge is my home."

"No…" Those green eyes brimmed with hurt, worry, and a touch of jealousy. I had to turn away to stop myself from losing control. I looked up at the roof and the pages of script nailed there, breathing heavily.

"There must be something else… this can't be real…" He was so upset that he was almost stuttering.

"There's something the matter, tell me what it is." I had had enough. I turned with my eyes on the floor, and attempted to bolt to the door. "Tell me what's wrong! Tell me the truth!" He was right there, grabbing hold of me. I fought him, about to lose control. "Tell me the truth!" He forced me to look him in the eye.

"The truth?" I knew this was it. It was the only way I could save him. It would kill him to hear it. And it would kill me to say it.

"The truth is…" I steeled myself for the statement, looking him right in the face and putting on a slightly angry mask to hide my own hurt. "I _am_ the Hindu courtesan," I took a deep breath. "And I _choose_ the Maharaja."

His mouth opened slightly in shock and despair, staring at me as though I had just slapped him.

"That's how the story really ends." I managed to throw one last devastating look of pity and indifference at him before I left his apartment and down the stairs and out the door. I was not the only one crying; the sky was unleashing it's own despair as it rained down on me. I quickly crossed the street before I collapsed. I had just made it into the courtyard when I heard it.

"SATINE!" It was the most heartbreaking cry of agony I had ever heard. It made me sob harder, almost tripping over my dress.

"SATIIIINE!" The second echoed around the courtyard, wrenching at my heart and tearing it into pieces. It took everything I had not to run to him and tell him I was lying and that I loved him.

"SAT—" The third was cut off for whatever reason and I finally fell to the wet pavement, coughs and sobs wracking my body.

Everyday a little death.

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_Thanks for reading, please review ^_^_


	4. One Last Time

_First one in Christian's POV._

* * *

All I knew was cold. Cold and wetness. But mostly cold. Not only was my body chilled to the bone, but my whole mind had frozen over. I did not feel the pavement beneath me. I did not feel the rain pounding on my back. I did not feel the pain of my cheek where it had been hit. All I could feel was the gnawing, numbing ache of abandonment that was throbbing in my chest.

I did not hear the whinnying of horses, nor the clatter of carts. All I heard were the same words echoing maliciously inside my head.

_The truth is I _am_ the Hindu courtesan and I _choose_ the Maharaja_.

I heard it over again and again with different inflections and tones, trying desperately to see some truth that was hidden in the sentence, proof that what was said wasn't real. It was repeated so many times that I forgot the original heartache and watched as it was slowly replaced by resentment.

I hardly registered the gentle hands that picked me up and carried me to shelter.

Sometime later, minutes or hours, I did not know, nor did I care, I woke up. Whether from sleep or just numbness, I awoke. I sat up against the headboard of my bed and I glared out of the window at the part of the windmill I could see. It had stopped raining, but it was dark. I stiffly turned my head. Toulouse was sitting nearby, gazing at me anxiously. I looked away from him, back out at the dark night.

Toulouse stood and waddled over to me. Grasping the headboard, he leaned over me, smiling.

"Things aren't always as they seem."

His cheerfulness, for once, disgusted me.

"Things are exactly the way they seem," I said, contempt marring my tone.

"Christian, you may see me only as a drunken, vice-ridden gnome whose friends are just pimps and girls from the brothels," he started. I almost agreed with him before he went on, "but I know about art and love… if only because I long for it with every fiber of my being. She loves you, I know it. I know she loves you."

I could not take him standing there, happily spouting lies about things he thought he understood.

"Go away, Toulouse. Leave me alone," I said, not moving an inch.

He didn't move either. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him looking at me pityingly.

"Go. Away."

No change. Suddenly, anger and hate boiled up inside me and I exploded.

"GO AWAY!" I shouted. He jumped, shocked and hurt.

He backed away and gathered up his coat. I returned to my stare out the window. I heard the door open and close but I didn't acknowledge it.

Now a new statement was ringing in my head.

_She loves you, I know it. I know she loves you._

Toulouse didn't understand. What would he know?

_She loves you._

But I desperately wanted it to be true.

_I know she loves you._

How could I believe anything he said when Satine had so thoroughly convinced me otherwise? Even thinking her name filled me with rage.

_She loves you, I know it. I know she loves you._

I wanted to shut out what Toulouse had said. But he had filled me with doubt. And there was only one way to be sure.

Making up my mind, I forced myself out of bed and flung the blankets wrapped around me onto the floor. I looked around at my handful of possessions. I quickly concluded that the typewriter was the most valuable thing I owned. I kicked the ladder that was propped into the hole that led to the Bohemians' loft. It crashed down to the floor, scattering hand-typed pages of dialogue and song lyrics. I hastily threw on my old trench coat; it looked like it might snow tonight. Grabbing the typewriter, I scrambled out the door and down the stairs. I didn't think I'd ever be coming back.

Without looking at the electrifying red windmill, I made my way down the street, my back to the Moulin Rouge. I knew I had seen it somewhere near here…

I finally came across the pawnbroker I had noticed once while coming down this street. Of course, that was at a time when I looked reverently on the nightclub highlighting the end of the road. I entered the shop and quickly exchanged my prized possession for as many francs as I could get. Stuffing them in my pocket, I stepped back out of the shop and turned determinedly to face the dazzling windmill.

_She loves you, I know it. I know she loves you._

I had to know. So I returned the Moulin Rouge… one last time.

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_Thanks for reading, please review!_


	5. Possession

**_Another in Christian's POV_**

* * *

It was fairly easy to sneak in through the back. There was a tense moment when one of the Duke's guards passed extremely close by my hiding place. I knew there was small window that went straight into the basement where all the props and costumes were kept. I shoved my whole weight into it, willing it not to break. It popped open easily. It was just big enough for me to wiggle through.

I landed catlike on the floor below, almost slipping on a sequined dress. I made my way to the stairs that I knew led to the wings of the newly built stage. I could hear music throbbing as I climbed the stairs, looking out for anyone. They were singing _my_ songs. Anger boiled up inside me.

I emerged near Satine's dressing room. Perfect. I glanced down the hall and saw the Duke's muscled bodyguard smoking outside of it. He looked up when I came into view and, panicking, I threw myself against the wall behind a few of the ropes that held one of the many curtains. He appeared at the end of the hall, and not seeing me, moved on, searching. He stopped to peer onto the stage and I took advantage of his turned back. Quickly, I sneaked over to the other side of the narrow space and slipped beneath the risers on the stage. The music was still pumping methodically. I could feel the risers shaking as the performers danced on top of them. Hoping the bodyguard hadn't noticed me, I crept along the row of risers, away from the man.

That was when I heard it. The long, unbroken note. It was Satine; she was now onstage.

_Kiss, hand, diamonds, best friend_

_Kiss, grand, diamonds, best friend_

_Men, cold, girls, old_

_But we all loose our charms in the end_

When the song ended, the audience broke into applause and I began to move again. Light fell on me and I saw I was under a trapdoor. I started to move forward when suddenly the light was blocked out and the Argentinean tumbled in the small space. He seemed to be unconcious, as he often was. Thinking quickly, I stripped him of his dazzlingly white costume coat and put it on. Leaving the Bohemian there, I backtracked, climbing back through the risers as I heard Harold begin a monologue on the stage.

The closer I got to the dressing room, the harder it was for me to breathe. Forgetting that I wasn't supposed to be there, I strode right down the hall and into the doorway, which was open.

She was there, looking at herself in the full-body mirror. She was just as beautiful as always; it made me hate her even more. She saw my reflection behind her and spun around, startled.

"I've come to pay my bill," I said, walking slowly towards her.

She backed away at my advance and sighed sultrily. After taking a deep breath, she said, "You shouldn't be here, Christian."

She brushed past me and out the door. "Just leave." I wasn't letting her get away that easily. Not after what she'd done to me. I followed.

When Satine noticed that I was shadowing her, she sped up, breathing heavily. I was right behind her. She tried to get around a pole; I caught her by the arm and snarled into her face, "You made me believe that you loved me. Why shouldn't I _pay_ you?"

"Please go, Christian," she implored, looking into his face.

"She's got to get on the stage!" I heard Marie shouting behind me. Momentarily distracted, I didn't notice at first that Satine had slipped out of my grip. I was not giving up. She had started up the stairs; I caught her again, pinning her against the staircase.

"You did your job so very, very well!" I hissed into her ear.

She managed to slide out from under me and continue up the stairs. Getting very angry indeed, I kept on.

"Why can't I pay you like everyone else does?" I shouted. She paused at the top of the stairs and turned to face me. Through hard breaths she said, "No, Christian, there's no point. Just leave."

And she stumbled on to her destination. I continued in my pursuit. It felt like I was possessed.

Now there was someone else chasing us, I felt hands try to grab onto me, to stop me. I turned and pushed the man over with all of my strength, not caring who it was.

Suddenly, Satine shrieked in fright, but I wasn't paying attention. She stopped dead and turned to me; her face was streaked with tears.

"Go," she gasped.

"But if it wasn't real…"

"Go," she begged.

"…then why can't I pay you?"

Satine glanced behind her. I took out the francs and held them up for her to take.

"No!" she screamed.

"Let me pay!" I shouted, losing my sanity. "Let me pay!"

Satine was looking over her shoulder, but I wanted her to look me in the eye.

"Tell me it wasn't real!" She fell to the side, into a niche that held a door to the stage. It was then that I realized I had been holding and shaking her; I fell with her.

"Tell me you don't love me!" She was on the floor, shaking her head up at me. I was leaning over her, shouting and crying in her face.

"Tell me you don't love me!"

Distantly, from somewhere overhead, I heard someone calling my name, but I was beyond caring.

"TELL ME YOU DON'T LOVE ME!"

At that moment, the doors next to us opened up, spilling light into the little niche, exposing the quarrelers to the entire cast on stage and the audience beyond.

* * *

**_One more after this ;) Thanks for reading, please review!_**


	6. Come What May

Silence. Every eye was locked on Satine and I. I stood stock still, blinking into the light. She was still shuddering with sobs.

After a few stunned moments, the crowd began a low hum of muttering. The cast still hadn't moved; Harold was staring wide-eyed at the pair of us. He looked behind him and that's when I spotted the Duke; right on the aisle in the front row.

"Ha, ha, ha!" His false laugh prickled my skin unpleasantly. He addressed the audience; "I am not fooled! Though he has shaved of his beard and adopts a disguise, mine eyes do not lie!"

More muttering from the crowd.

"For it is he! The same penniless suitar player!"

The audience accepted this quickly with a few "aahs!" and laughter, punctuated with a few claps.

"Driven mad by jealousy!"

Harold looked back at the Duke. His eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head.

I took hold of Satine, pulled her to her feet, and dragged her down the stage. After a few steps she stumbled; I didn't bother trying to catch her.

I stepped away from her, and eyes locked on the Duke, pointed at her. I opened my mouth and said the first thing I could think of, words that I had written months ago and never knew I would ever actually mean.

"This woman is yours now."

The Duke glared back, gloating. I took a deep breath and threw the money at her.

"I've paid my whore."

A few audible "ohs!" were heard from women in the crowd. I ignored them.

"I owe you nothing," I said directly to her, trying to keep my tone hardened. "And you are nothing to me."

She looked back up at me, face shining with tears. I worked to keep from sobbing as I stammered, "Th-thank you for c-curing me of m-my ridiculous ob-obsession with love."

And I walked down the remainder of the stairs on the stage. Once I was level with the first row of chairs, I gave the Duke one last, defeated look. He glared back at me until I finally forced myself to walk down the aisle, away from him, the Moulin Rouge, and the woman I once loved.

Behind me, Harold resumed the play.

"This Suitar Player doesn't love you! See, he flees the Kingdom!"

I stripped off the white costume coat I had stolen and let it drop to the floor. I did not want to be the abandoned Suitar Player any longer.

"Now, my bride, it is time for you to raise your voice to the heavens, and say your wedding vows!" boomed Harold's voice.

I kept walking determinedly to the doors, trying very hard not to think about what I would do when I reached them.

Just then, a strangled cry echoed through the entire theater.

"THE GREATEST THING YOU'LL EVER LEARN IS JUST TO LOVE AND BE LOVED IN RETURN!"

I stopped in my tracks, feet from the doors, as the last of the words faded away and left behind a ringing silence and then in turn more murmuring from the audience.

A quiet voice was raised above every other noise.

_Never knew I could feel like this_

I sniffed, willing myself not to believe it, not to cry. Not daring to. I began to walk again, slower this time.

_It's like I've never seen the sky before_

The voice grew stronger with every line, every word.

_Want to vanish inside your kiss_

I stopped once more and took a deep breath, the wall in my mind that was against the voice deteriorating with every note.

_Every day I'm loving you more and more_

Gathering my courage, I, ever so slowly, turned to face the stage and the voice.

_Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing?_

I could see her, miles away, but so close. I only had eyes for her, and she was stepping forward, towards me, calling me.

_Come back to me, and forgive everything!_

After belting out this last line, she doubled over, gasping. I swallowed, silently urging her to go on. She recovered quickly and straightened up, proud and true, to look at me.

_Seasons may change, winter to spring_

She paused and stared at me tenderly; her gazed pierced me even across the room. Having written the song, I knew the next line, but I wanted her, _needed_ her to say it herself. I needed the proof, and even before she said it, I knew in my heart and in her eyes, that she was telling me the truth.

_I love you_

It was merely a whisper but it carried across the room on wings as bright as the stars.

'_Till the end of time_

I was beyond words, beyond actions. I knew that my next move would have to carry on the song, our story, the melody that had saved me.

_Come what may_

It had come out of my mouth before I even consciously made the decision to sing. A smile spread across her beautiful face, a relieved smile. I wanted that smile to stay there, so I continued.

_Come what may_

Her legs carried her down the stairs, to me.

_Come what may_

We were magnets, both moving toward each other.

_I will love you_

She answered:

_I will love you_

I picked up my pace, my destination, now knowing, without a doubt, that she loved me. That's how it had always been, and that's how it will stay. Everything from the past twenty-four hours lay forgotten.

_Until my dying day_

_Come what may_

At last, I reached the stage and I took her in my arms, and I in hers.

_Come what may,_

_I will love you until my dying—_

But our duet was suddenly interrupted by a loud yell as a short man swung onto the stage and fell, skidding across. Toulouse rose hastily, in full costume, and shouted, to the whole theater:

"They're trying to kill you!"

* * *

_**Okay, so I lied. There will be ONE MORE, I swear haha... Thanks for reading, please review!**_


	7. The Greatest Thing

**_Last chapter... it was really hard to write, I hope I did it justice!_**

* * *

The audience burst into raucous laughter at Toulouse's proclamation. All of the actors on stage, however, knew this was certainly not part of the play.

"Shut up!" Harold shouted at Toulouse, abandoning his character.

"Look! He's got a gun!" The short man was pointing and jumping on the spot, apparently in a panic. A few feet away, just offstage, stood the Duke's bodyguard, and on the opposite side of the stage, lay a gun.

"Guards! Seize him!" Harold said in an attempt to save the play.

A Bohemian ran across to center stage from the orchestra pit, hand clenched around something.

"Vive la vie de Boheme!" he shouted and threw down whatever he was holding.

There was an explosion and everything dissolved into chaos. The dancers screamed and ran from the fire, the lights started going haywire and Harold began shouting at everybody in range. Satine tightened her hold on me and I shielded her from the worst of it.

Just then, the doors that we had come through onto the stage opened and out popped the Argentinean, conscious once more.

"No problem! Go back to work!"

There was a moment's silence, and then the orchestra began pounding out the notes for the final song.

_No matter what you say_

_The show is ending our way_

Satine and I, triumphant in our reunion, sang along as loud as anyone else.

_We've got to stand our ground_

_For freedom, beauty, truth and love_

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the Duke's bodyguard lurking near the edge of the stage, but I was too preoccupied to care what he was doing.

_One day I'll fly away!_

Satine looked over at me and smile broadly.

_My gift is my song!_

I grinned back at her and we both moved to face each other as there was another explosion of light and we were lifted off of our feet and onto the shoulders of the dancers.

_I will love you_

We were belting and smiling and the crowd was cheering and the music was playing.

_Yes, I will love you_

And we were circling each other, reaching out to grasp hands.

_Until my dying day!_

We all sang out the note, holding it with ease. Distantly, I heard a crash as if glass were breaking.

The song ended and the dancers put us back on the ground facing one another and holding hands as the curtain closed and the audience erupted.

Unbelievably happy, I stared for a few seconds at the curtain before looking back at my beloved. She was gazing at me tenderly. I leaned in and pecked her lips gently before turning and leading her away. We could talk and make up more in my apartment.

But she was tugging against my hand. I looked back to see what the problem was and found her head snapped up and her eyes wide.

"Satine?" I asked, concerned. She was gasping wildly for breath, as she sometimes did, but this time was different. Worse. Coughs wracked her body.

"Satine?" She was slowly tottering backward, unable to keep her balance. "What's wrong?"

She was wheezing painfully. I lowered her to the floor, panic setting in. "Darling? What's the matter?"

More wheezing, gasping, coughing.

"Darling? Satine?" I murmured a stream of questions. "What's the matter?"

She coughed again and something red flew out of her mouth, landing on her lip. Stiffly, I lifted my thumb to it and pulled it back, looking at it closely.

It was blood.

Dread dropped onto me. Fright and anxiety. "Oh God… Oh my God…"

I looked back at her. Her eyes were rolling as she struggled to breathe. She was still wheezing and choking.

"SOMEBODY GET SOME HELP!" I screamed to the room at large.

"Hold the curtain, fetch the doctor!" I heard someone say.

Satine was trying to compose herself to say something. "I'm sorry…" she struggled. "Christian… I…"

She stopped, trying to get more air to speak. I was paralyzed; I could do nothing but stare at her, uncomprehending.

"I… I… I'm dying…"

I heard myself shooshing her, begging her not to say such an awful, terrible thing. She whimpered in pain and I realized I was crying.

"I'm so sorry…" she said again, fainter.

"You'll be all right," I said, starting a mantra. "You'll be all right." My voice was too strong and loud compared to her weak one. "You'll be all right."

"Cold," she said, her eyes half-dead already. "I'm cold…"

My eyes fluttered down her body, desperately wanting to help, to keep her warm.

"Hold me…" She was barely audible. "Hold me…"

I lifted her shoulders higher and wrapped my arms securely around them, more tears welling up in my eyes. She was wheezing in my ear and each gasp was like a shot from a gun. After a few moments, I pulled back and she was smiling weakly at me.

"You've got to go on, Christian," she said, struggling to sound stronger.

"Can't go on without you, though." And I meant it. What was I supposed to do if she…?

"You've got so much… to give…"

She reached up her hand to caress my cheek. I started to gasp too, out of grief rather than pain.

"Tell our story Christian." She was looking hard into my eyes.

"No!" I sobbed, tightening my hold on her.

"Yes," she wheezed. "Promise me."

I shook my head vigorously, tears flying off of my face.

"Yes, promise me," she said, nodding faintly. I cried more and she took that as my word.

And with the last of her strength, she whispered, so that I had to lean even closer to hear her:

"That way… I'll… I'll always… be with… you…"

She took a few more shallow breaths and smiled once more. I began to sob hard and didn't notice right away when the labored breathing stopped all together. I looked down into the blue eyes and saw that there was nothing left. The light had faded from them and would never return. They looked, unseeing.

At first I just stared at the limp form in my arms. Then, grief the likes of which I had never known flooded into me and it all came out in a single, strangled cry. I threw myself onto her and began to bawl. I cried and I held her and I sobbed and I rocked in pain and grief and sadness.

I lamented the loss of Satine.

I lamented the loss of my boyish innocence.

But above all things, I lamented the loss of love.

For the greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.

**The End**

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_Thank you for reading! Please review ^_^_**


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